


The Stranger

by levi_james



Series: Trans!Blaine Verse [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: FTM, Klaine, M/M, Mental Illness, Trans!Blaine, Transgender, ftm!Blaine, trans!klaine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:55:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6660985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levi_james/pseuds/levi_james
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine's trying to survive and maybe be happy.</p><p>This fic is trans!Blaine and will eventually feature Klaine.</p><p>Warning for gender dysphoria.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own glee (or its characters, etc) or the song.

_“Well we all have a face_

_That we hide away forever_

_And we take them out and show ourselves_

_When everyone has gone,”_

Blaine sings out while the warm, soothing water runs down his back, while he scrubs the shampoo into his scalp.

 

_“Some are satin some are steel_

_Some are silk and some are leather_

_They're the faces of the stranger,_

_But we love to try them on”_

He dries off, combs his hair.

 

_“Well, we all fall in love_

_But we disregard the danger,_

_Though we share so many secrets_

_There are some we never tell.”_

He puts his binder on; lets go of the silly notion that he needs to breathe deeply for a while.

It hugs him, a familiar yet slightly unpleasant feeling. Because he knows what it means, why he has to wear it. He adjusts, assuring that his chest is as flat as possible.

He doesn’t think about the fact that at this point, it is essential that he keep his chest this flat. He doesn’t let himself think about the repercussions he would face if he slips up.

 

_“Why were you so surprised_

_That you never saw the stranger_

_Did you ever let your lover see_

_The stranger in yourself?”_

He slips his too-tight underwear on, followed by blue chinos. He runs his belt through the pants, but doesn’t zip up, doesn’t do the belt buckle. Not yet.

He puts his green polo on, then a blue and green-striped bow tie. He slicks his hair back. He slips on his light blue dress shoes.

 

_“Don't be afraid to try again_

_Everyone goes south_

_Every now and then_

_You've done it, why can't someone else?_

_You should know by now_

_You've been there yourself.”_

He reaches into his dresser, and then into his underwear. He puts his packer in place, secures it, and pulls his underwear up.

 

_“Once I used to believe_

_I was such a great romancer_

_Then I came home to a woman_

_That I could not recognize.”_

And he hopes to a God, one that he doesn’t know if he believes in, that the packer will behave, that it won’t slip out of his underwear and down the leg of his pants.

 

_“When I pressed her for a reason_

_She refused to even answer_

_It was then I felt the stranger_

_Kick me right between the eyes.”_

 

He checks the time.

 

_“Well, we all fall in love_

_But we disregard the danger_

_Though we share so many secrets_

_There are some we never tell_

_Why were you so surprised_

_That you never saw the stranger_

_Did you ever let your lover see_

_The stranger in yourself?”_

He gets his phone and wallet off the nightstand, gets his tan-colored suit jacket off the hook and lays it over his arm. He grabs his keys and double-checks that he has everything he needs.

 

_“Don't be afraid to try again_

_Everyone goes south_

_Every now and then_

_You've done it why can't someone else?_

_You should know by now_

_You've been there yourself”_

He walks through the door, goes to his car, drives to the little café that he frequents. He’s still singing to himself, just a whisper that can barely be heard.

 

_“You may never understand_

_How the stranger is inspired_

_But he isn't always evil_

_And he isn't always wrong_

_Though you drown in good intentions_

_You will never quench the fire_

_You'll give in to your desire_

_When the stranger comes along."_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is "The Stranger" by Billy Joel.
> 
> Unbetaed, so please forgive any mistakes.
> 
> You can find me at writingandsilliness.tumblr.com and needtofeelanything.tumblr.com.  
> Come say hi. I'll answer any questions as long as you're nice.


	2. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine goes on a date. It goes about as well as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a long time coming. Literally, it's been a year. Sorry it's taken so long.  
> (More info about what's been happening with me in the note at the end.)

Blaine knows that he has a pattern. He hears about it all the time from his friends. It’s not like he’s oblivious or unintelligent. He knows. He knows that he plays guys, leads them on. He knows that he treats them less like humans and more like puzzles, like games. He knows, but he still does it.

He walks into the café, scanning the room for familiar faces.

He sees a dark-skinned man at the counter, chatting with the barista.

Kyle, he remembers. They've been talking online for a few months.

He's nice. Nice enough, anyway. He's out to his family, which is good. Hiding makes things more difficult (not that Blaine wouldn't go out with someone who was still in the closet). He has a stable job, an apartment, a dog.

All of these things are good. This guy could be the real deal, they could be together for a long time.

Blaine feels a little bad, because he knows what's going to happen.

///

Blaine wakes up, his face sticking to the cold tile floor of his bathroom.

It's not an unfamiliar place.

This has happened enough times that Blaine is not actually confused about what happened, just unsure of all the details.

_Who was I with?_

_What happened?_

_How far did we go?_

Blaine is incredibly relieved that his clothes seem to be intact.

He picks himself up, head spinning, and crawls through the bathroom door to his adjoining bedroom. His bed is still made, just rumpled, probably from him dropping face-first onto it and immediately falling asleep last night.

There is no indication of anyone else in the apartment.

_Thank fucking God._

His phone beeps. He pats his pockets, then looks around to see where it fell.

He finds it after a few minutes, hiding behind his nightstand.

**5 messages**

11:38 pm - From Kyle: **Hey Blaine, everything okay? You left kind of suddenly.**

11:49 pm - From Kyle: **Where'd you go? You alright?**

12:21 am - From Kyle: **Are you in the bathroom?**

12:34 am - From Kyle: **Hey man, I gotta go but thanks for a good night... maybe I'll see you again?**

1:56 am - From Kyle: **Hey, just wanted to make sure you got home okay. Wish we could have hung out longer... Maybe we can have lunch in a few days?**

_Fuck._

Kyle really is a nice guy.

Those texts are not actually very representative of what happened last night. Which Blaine knows not because he remembers much, but because this has happened before. A lot.

Memories from the night before come back in flashes.

Approaching Kyle at the coffee shop.

Sitting down with him, having a -- actually, great -- conversation.

Agreeing to dinner at a sushi place, which Kyle paid for.

Going down to the gay club, drinking a few too many beers.

Kyle reaching to show Blaine something on his phone, and then not moving back when he's done.

Slow, lax kisses, a warm buzzing feeling in his stomach.

Kyle's hand moving up Blaine's thigh.

Blaine suddenly needing to pee _right now_ , and Kyle looking confused but as diplomatic as ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry it's short, but there's more coming soon.
> 
> It's taken me a year to update this fic. Like a lot of young adults nowadays, I'm really mentally ill. Part of it is being trans, part of it is brain chemistry. I won't go into my life story, but that's why I'm finally updating it a year later.  
> If you need someone to talk to you can send me a message [here](http://needtofeelanything.tumblr.com/), but I will warn you that I'm not great at keeping up conversations. But I would love to hear from you. [Here's a list of mental health hotlines for all countries. Please use them.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines) There are also [trans-specific hotlines here](https://www.translifeline.org/) and [international LGBTQ hotlines here](http://www.thetrevorproject.org/pages/international-support). I care about you. Please get help if you need it.
> 
> If you want to talk to me about trans things, feel free to contact me: My tumblr is [here](http://needtofeelanything.tumblr.com/) and my writing blog is [here](http://writingandsilliness.tumblr.com//).  
> Please direct your general trans-related questions to Google or another source dedicated to educating cisgender people!
> 
> I love you!


	3. Getting Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine finds himself at a psych appointment.

The office building is freezing cold. It smells like cheap floor polish. The office numbers are not in any easily-deduced sequence, and there are plastic houseplants in every corner. For some ungodly reason, the ground floor is actually the one that houses the “200” offices, so nearly everyone gets lost looking for the right office. When Blaine (finally) finds office 227, it’s five past the hour. _Great first impression, Blaine,_ he thinks.

The psychiatrist is a middle-aged woman with large thick-rimmed glasses. “Doctor Williams,” she introduces herself.

“Blaine.” He clears his throat uncomfortably.

Dr. Williams pours water into two glasses while Blaine sits in an armchair and looks around. The rather large rainbow flag on the wall may be a bit much, but he appreciates the effort.

“So, Blaine,” Dr. Williams prompts after seating herself on an identical chair opposite Blaine, “what brings you here today?”

“Well,” Blaine starts, “I’ve been feeling more depressed than usual.”

“What do you think is adding to your depression?”

“Well, I’m a transgender man, so gender dysphoria is a big component. I don’t have much of a support system.”

Dr. Williams nods. “May I ask about your family?”

“They’re not really in the picture. I mean, they disowned me when I came out to them. My dad gave me money and told me he never wanted to see me again. I know that’s better than a lot of kids get, but it sucked. I haven’t seen my older brother in years. He just had a kid – I found out because one of our mutual friends was talking about meeting her.” Blaine scratches at the skin on his thumb.

The doctor sits quietly, letting Blaine say what he needs to say. He looks at her to signal that he is done. She takes a deep breath, contemplating. “It is always hard to lose family, but it is even harder when it’s because you are being who you are. Queer and trans folks frequently have this happen to them, because of bigotry. But that doesn’t mean something’s wrong with you – actually, it means you’re a fighter. I was also disowned when I came out as a trans woman.”

Blaine can’t hide his shock at this. He closes his mouth and forces himself to nod, unable to speak.

“I went through a tough time as well. Several times, I still have bad days. That’s why I became a psychiatrist. To help trans and queer youth be who they are.” She smiles.

“W-what do you do? To help people feel better?” Blaine regains his voice.

“Well, it depends on the person. I almost always strongly advise weekly therapy. And many times it’s also helpful to be on some sort of antidepressant.”

Blaine nods, unsure if he wants to be on some medication that messes with his brain.

“A lot of people have some trepidations about going on medication,” the doctor goes on. “That’s totally normal. Many people are hesitant about taking medications that affect cognition, that is, the brain and thinking. That is probably because of the stigma attached to mental health issues. I’m not going to push you in one direction – it’s your decision -- but you should know that the medicine is closely monitored and introduced to the patient’s body in small doses. If you feel anything’s wrong or you don’t like the side effects, we’ll try something else.”

“I think I need to think about it some more,” Blaine says quietly.

“That’s perfectly fine. Can we talk about weekly therapy?”

Blaine nods.

“Medicine alone rarely improves a patient’s mental health; it should really be combined with talk therapy. In therapy, patients can talk about what’s bothering them: whether it’s family, friends, their environment, or internal issues like being transgender. I can refer you to trans- and queer-friendly therapists. Therapy also can give you tools to use to reduce stress and have more positive interactions with the people around you.”

Well, when it’s framed like that… Blaine is actually considering it. There’s just one more thing:

“How much does it cost?”

“Well, most therapists take insurance, but if you don’t have coverage, there is usually a sliding scale that is based on your income. So, if you don’t earn as much as other people, you pay less.”

Dr. Williams lets Blaine process the information, meanwhile reading over the questionnaire that Blaine filled out before their appointment.

“Okay, well,” Blaine takes a breath, “I think I want to do the therapy. I’m not sure about the medication.”

“That sounds great. We can always revisit the medication if you change your mind. Maybe you can talk to your therapist about it, weigh the pros and cons?” Dr. Williams folds her hands together. “I will get you name of therapists I recommend; you can look them up and see who you think would make a good fit.”

Blaine nods. “Okay. Good,” he says, still processing.

Dr. Williams gets up then and goes to her computer. She prints a piece of paper and hands it to Blaine. It’s a list of names and phone numbers. The typed characters blur together and Blaine has to look away.

“Overwhelming,” he mutters, and the doctor hums sympathetically, sitting back down.

“Take your time. Don’t push yourself too hard,” she says. “How about you take it home and look over it later?” Blaine nods.

Dr. Williams stands up and moves towards the door. Blaine follows, turning towards her. “Well, Blaine, it really was a pleasure meeting you. How about I have my secretary call you to schedule an appointment in a few days?”

“Y-you as well, Dr. Williams,” Blaine manages. She sticks out her hand for him to shake, which he does, and he opens the door to leave.

“Take care, Blaine,” Dr. Williams says, closing the door a few moments after he exits the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you need someone to talk to you can send me a message [here](http://needtofeelanything.tumblr.com/), but I will warn you that I'm not great at keeping up conversations. But I would love to hear from you. [Here's a list of mental health hotlines for all countries. Please use them.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines) There are also [trans-specific hotlines here](https://www.translifeline.org/) and [international LGBTQ hotlines here](http://www.thetrevorproject.org/pages/international-support). I care about you. Please get help if you need it.
> 
> If you want to talk to me about trans things, feel free to contact me: My tumblr is [here](http://needtofeelanything.tumblr.com/) and my writing blog is [here](http://writingandsilliness.tumblr.com//).  
> Please direct your general trans-related questions to Google or another source dedicated to educating cisgender people!
> 
> I love you!


End file.
